


Bad Blood

by supreme_genius



Category: Grimm (TV)
Genre: Au of a fic, Blood, Brief Violence, Gen, Language
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-12
Updated: 2015-06-12
Packaged: 2018-04-04 03:52:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,305
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4124662
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/supreme_genius/pseuds/supreme_genius
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nick feels as though his body weighs a ton, like he’s going to crumble under the weight. As soon as he looks at her, really sees her, he breaks. He pushes her out of the way, trying to suppress the anger, trying to contain it, to not let it get the best of him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bad Blood

**Author's Note:**

> I don't own Grimm.  
> I make no money from this.  
> It is mostly unbeta'd.
> 
> The title is from the Taylor Swift song of the same name.
> 
> This is an AU for "If You Must Mourn (Don't Do It Alone)."

Nick stands there, just staring down at the body. Even as the blood oozes towards him, finally touching his boots, he doesn’t move. First, there is silence. Everyone is in shock; they never thought this is how it would end; most of them, especially Rosalee, kept holding on to hope. Then, Nick is vaguely aware of a voice. He can’t tell what it’s saying; he doesn’t really care either. But it’s a familiar voice, a comforting voice.

“Nick,” the voice says. “Nick!”

It’s not until there is a hand on his shoulder and the voice is right by his ear that he remembers who it belongs to.

“Nick,” Trubel says, almost pleading. “Nick, look at me. Say something. Please.” Her voice cracks on the last word.

Finally, Nick moves. At first, he just turns his head towards her. He looks right at her, but does not see her; he’s still in a daze. But the more he hears her voice, the more the haze at the edge of his vision clears, until his body finally gives in and steps towards her.

Everyone stands around the room just watching them. No one knows what to say. No one knows what to do. Monroe looks down at Rosalee, who can’t stop crying. He reaches out and pulls her close to his chest; she tucks her head under his chin and sobs into his jacket. Hank and Wu exchange nervous glances, and Hank keeps looking outside, checking for Renard’s SUV to pull up.

Nick feels as though his body weighs a ton, like he’s going to crumble under the weight. As soon as he looks at her, really sees her, he breaks. He pushes her out of the way, trying to suppress the anger, trying to contain it, to not let it get the best of him.

“Nick,” she says, her voice cracking as tears begin to blur her vision.

His hands ball into fists. As he takes a step towards her, something pulls him back. Hard. Turning around, he finds Monroe standing behind him, eyes red.

“What are you doing?” Monroe growls, the sound coming from deep inside him.

“She killed her.” He spits out the words like venom. “She killed Juliette.”

“That wasn’t Juliette and you know it.”

“Somewhere inside her it was. We could have helped her! But instead she killed her.”

Tears roll down Trubel’s face. Her body shakes, even as Hank comes over and wraps his arms around her. He positions himself in between her and Nick, shielding her. Hank knows what Nick has been through, how his hearing improved after being blinded by the Jinnamaru Xunte, how being zombified gave him increased strength (and not knowing if it had any lasting effects). He knows what Nick is capable of and he’ll be damned if he lets him show Trubel.

“What she did is exactly what you told her to.”

“What are talking about?”

“In the shop,” Monroe starts, “she asked what we were supposed to do if we found Juliette. You said ‘kill her.’”

Nick pauses as the words come back to him. He yells, unable to keep the anger inside himself any longer. But before he can make another move, Monroe is shoving him towards the wall, pinning him, leaving him unable to move.

Monroe growls. “You know we couldn’t help her. We tried. She didn’t want it.”

“But we did this to her. We should have tried harder!”

Nick presses against Monroe, fighting the hold, but despite his best efforts, he is no match for an angry, woged Monroe. Nick closes his eyes, leaning his head back against the wall. He still struggles against Monroe’s hold, but not like he means it. When he opens his eyes and looks around, he finds it’s only himself and Monroe left in the room. He’s not sure when everyone left or how long his eyes were closed; time seems to drag on, keeping him in this moment for longer than he can bear. Finally, Monroe lets go. At first, Nick does not move. He just stares, breathes, looks like he is about to cry. Monroe steps back, unsure of his friend’s next move.

Outside, the rest of the gang stands on the porch waiting for Renard. Hank still has his arms around Trubel, suddenly feeling very protective of her. Hank never had kids, never really wanted them, but there is something about Trubel that brings out this protectiveness inside him. He figures it’s because he has, in a way, seen her grow up. He watched her go from this scared runaway to a real grimm. But he also feels guilty; he was the one who suggested that Monroe call her.

Rosalee sits on the front step, she brings her knees up to her chest and wraps her arms around them. Her cheeks are still damp from tears, but for now she’s stopped crying. Now, she’s just angry -- at herself, at Trubel, the royals, everyone; they all had a hand in this.

When Monroe walks out, he goes right to Rosalee and sits down next to her, wrapping his arms around her. He knows what it’s like to lose a close friend and he would never wish it on anyone, and he knows Juliette is the first real friend Rosalee has had in a long time.

“I just want to go home,” Rosalee mumbles into Monroe’s jacket.

“I know.” Monroe sighs. “But we have to wait for Renard to get here.”

They all stare down the road, waiting for Renard’s truck to finally turn the corner. There are footsteps behind them. They all turn, Rosalee and Monroe woged. It’s Nick. Locking eyes with Nick, Monroe snarls; there is something far darker in Nick’s eyes than he’s ever seen.

Letting go of Trubel, Hank turns so he’s standing in front of her. When he looks at Nick, he notices a small bulge near the hem of Nick’s shirt, which has ridden up just a bit. It’s Nick’s gun. He knows no one else has noticed.

“You all did this,” Nick says. “Anyone of you could have pulled that trigger and you might as well have.” He shakes his head, disgusted. “But you...” He looks over at Rosalee. “You came up with this plan, you made that concoction. You were her friend; you could’ve convinced her.” He takes a step forward.

Monroe gets up and steps in front of his wife. Friend or not, he isn’t going to let anyone hurt his wife. “Stop. Just stop this, Nick.” His eyes flash red. “We all did this, you included. Juliette knew the risks.”

Completely ignoring Monroe, Nick says, “Why didn’t you do more? She would’ve listened to you.”

“Well, she didn’t!” Rosalee yells as she jumps to her feet. “I went to see her in jail. She wasn’t going to listen to me or you or any one of us. She was gone a long time ago Nick -- right about the time you fucked Adalind.”

“Leave her out of this!”

“Why? You know all this is her fault. From the very beginning, all of this has been because of her. You took her powers and she went out for blood.”

“I took her powers to save Hank. I had no choice.”

“Don’t drag me into this.” Hank says. “I was late to the wesen party.”

“You know what,” Wu starts. “How about we all just calm down? Everyone is upset and saying things they don’t mean.”

Before anyone can say anything else, a car door slams and Renard comes walking up.

“What the hell happened?” When they all start talking at once, Renard yells, “Enough!” He turns to Wu. “Get over here.”

They walk away from the group.

Wu, being the most calm, explains what he can to Renard. He tells him about everything that happened tonight -- how Juliette tried to kill Nick and how Trubel saved him. “And then,” he says, “chaos. Nick’s losing it. He was gonna go after Trubel but Monroe stopped him. Then, he went off on Rosalee.” Wu shakes his head.

Walking back to the porch, Renard says, “Monroe and Rosalee, go home. Hank and Wu, go home and wait for the call to come in. I’ll make sure you’re on the case so we can cover up most of it.”

“Sir, that’s gonna be a conflict of interest,” Wu says.

“If anyone asks, I’ll say it was more comfortable for Nick to have people he knows well on the case and that it needs to stay quiet until we let the victim’s family know.”

The words hit Nick with extra weight. “And who gets to tell her mom? Hmm? It’s everyone’s fault. Right, Rosalee? So who has to do the dirty work?”

“I will,” Hank says, not looking at Nick. He looks over to Renard. “I’ll make the call. I’ll say Nick’s distraught and couldn’t do it.”

“How about everyone stops talking for me? Saying what I’m more comfortable with or how I’m feeling.”

Never in his life has Hank wanted to punch Nick more, but he does his best to ignore the feeling. He looks at Trubel and then back to Renard. “I’m not leaving. I’ll say Nick called me and when I saw what happened, I called it in.”

“Better do that now,” Renard says.

It’s a long night, especially for Renard, who has to keep an eye on Nick the entire time. It only takes half an hour for him to threaten Nick to stay quiet. Nick finally disappears upstairs, away from the body, the blood stains, the girl who put them there.

Renard takes advantage of the absence and tells the officers that this case is a sensitive matter, that Hank and Wu are lead and that most of this should be left to them. He explains that Nick and Juliette had been fighting and now Nick is angry and upset and needs time to get his head straight. He knows some of the officers are wondering why all of this is coming from him but will not question it. The precinct knows that Nick, Hank, Wu, and Renard are all friends outside of work. Renard knows this could all come back to bite him in the ass, but he’s been cleaning up Nick’s wesen-related messes for years and he can’t stop now. There’s too much at stake.

It’s early in the morning when the last of the officers leave. Renard sends Hank home and sends Trubel along with him. When the house is empty, he climbs the stairs and finds Nick in the bedroom, sitting on the edge of the bed. He debates sitting down, but that would be too friendly of a gesture. Right now, he needs to carry on as Nick’s superior.

“What?” Nick spits out.

“You can’t press charges against Trubel.”

“Why the hell not?”

“Can you live with sending her to jail?”

“She killed Juliette.”

“Nick, she saved your life. That wasn’t Juliette anymore.”

Nick looks up, his eyes bloodshot. “Why are you defending her?”

“I’m just trying to keep this situation from getting out of hand. It hasn’t been easy covering up the wesen aspects of some of your cases, but I’ve managed it. This one, though… If you push this matter, I won’t be able to hide it. I won’t vouch for you; I can’t. They’ll think you’re crazy and put you in a psychiatric facility. Do you want that?”

Nick looks away, feeling defeated, and shakes his head.

“I didn’t think so.” Now, he sits. “I’m sorry all of this happened.” When he gets no response, he continues. “Juliette came to me early on. She wanted help but I didn’t know how to give it to her, especially with how she was acting. One minute she was the sweet Juliette I knew as your girlfriend and the next...the next she was trying to rip off my clothes. I couldn’t let any of that happen again.”

“Did you sleep with her?”

“No.”

Nick nods, actually believing his captain. “I think she slept with Kenneth.”

“I think that speaks more to his character than hers. I think he took advantage of a woman in a fragile state.”

“She wasn’t fragile.”

“I didn’t mean it like that,” Renard starts. “What I meant was that she was just starting to embrace this new life. It was a defining moment for her. There was still hope, but when Kenneth convinced her that his would be the winning side, that he could make her life better, that hope was lost.” He pauses. “I think if anyone is to blame, it’s Kenneth. You may have all had a hand in what happened, but Kenneth is the one who took it passed the point of no return.”

Nick sighs and swears under his breath. “You’re right.”

“So, what are you gonna do now?”

“I guess let everyone cool down and get some rest, and then I’ll go apologize.”

“I think you should start with Rosalee. I think she’ll need it most.”

“Why?” Nick asks, looking up.

“She probably already blamed herself for what happened. I’m sure you made that a lot worse.”

“I can’t even remember half the shit I said.”

“Anger does that; it’s kind of like alcohol.”

After Renard leaves, Nick finally gets up from where he’s been sitting for hours. He walks into the bathroom and finally sees all the blood on his clothes. He knows he can’t salvage them (not that he wants to) and tosses them in pile next to the trash can.

In the shower, he scrubs his skin until it’s red and raw, as if trying to scrub away not only the blood but the memories. The water is too hot and burns his skins, but right now he doesn’t feel it. There are so many thoughts bouncing around in his head, he feels as if he’s about to go crazy. He focuses on one. It’s not long before he wishes he hadn’t.

It was their first anniversary -- years before Aunt Marie, the grimm stuff, the problems. Nick saved for three months so he could take her to a play at Portland Center Stage followed by a fancy dinner. Their seats weren’t great and it rained the whole night. But Nick can still remember the way Juliette smiled at him at the end of the night.

He leans back against the tile, cool against his tender skin. As he tries to contain the anger building inside himself, he takes a few deep breaths. His hands come up, rubbing over his face and then through his hair. Nothing works. His hands ball into fists, his arms swing down, and he punches the wall on either side of him. That he feels. When the tension fades from his hands, he stretches out his fingers and gives them a little shake, trying to diffuse the pain.

It’s not until the water runs cold that Nick finally steps out of the shower. He’s slow to move; he’s running on empty. Despite his almost-overwhelming fatigue, he knows he won’t be able to sleep, knows that if he closes his eyes, he’ll see her. So once he’s dry and dressed, he makes his way downstairs, completely ignoring the living room, and into the kitchen.

Halfway through his second cup of coffee, there is a knock on the door. Wu stands on the porch, a paper bag in each hand.

“Thought you might need some help cleaning up. I pretty much bought one of everything in the aisle, so…”

Nick nods and quietly says, “Thank you.”

Wu stands in the middle of the living room. Last night, there had been so much going on that he hadn’t even noticed just how much of a mess there was.

“Why don’t you grab a broom and sweep up some of the broken glass?”

Nick disappears briefly and comes back with a broom and dust pan. “There’s, uh, coffee in the pot if you want some.”

“Damn. I forgot to stop for coffee and doughnuts.”

“Don’t worry about it. Seriously. This is...more than I thought anyone would offer.”

Wu sighs. “I can’t speak for anyone else, but I’m not holding last night against you. If I were in your shoes, I can’t say I’d act much differently.” He shrugs and turns away, grabbing a scrub brush and carpet cleaner.

In the next hour, Nick manages to clean up all the broken picture frames, carefully disposing of the broken glass and frame and setting all the photos in a pile on the kitchen table. He also cleans up the broken vase, lamp, and mirror. Wu scrubs as much of the blood out of the rug as he can, but it’s not use -- the stain isn’t going anywhere. He rolls up the rug and looks to Nick, who nods and walks over, grabbing one end. They carry the rug outside and lay it on the curb, next to the garbage can.

“You okay?”

Nick shrugs.

“Why don’t you go see Monroe and Rosalee, I’m sure they want to know you’re okay-ish. I’ll stay here and finish up.”

With a nod, Nick returns inside and grabs his keys. He looks over at Wu, who’s trying to figure out the can of air-freshener. “Thank you, again.”

“You shouldn’t have to do this alone, Nick.”

Nick nods and adds, “Twist the top. You gotta unlock the little spray thing first.”

***

Monroe and Rosalee get to the shop early that morning, wanting to keep themselves busy, and get to work on some overdue inventory.

The day drags on, which Rosalee and Monroe both knew would happen. Rosalee feels as if she is operating solely on autopilot. It is not until she drops a jar of viscum coloratum that she comes out of her daze. Monroe is quick to grab the broom and dustpan, sweeping away the mess.

Handing the pen and clipboard to Rosalee, Monroe takes over counting the jars. They make it through two shelves before they are interrupted by jingle of the bell hanging over the front door.

Monroe turn around, a fake smile plastered on his face for the customer. It fades when he sees Nick standing in the front of the shop.

“Hey,” Nick says quietly as he looks down at his feet.

“Hello,” Monroe says.

Rosalee folds her arms across her chest, turns, and walks into the back of the shop.

“What do you want?”

“I wanted to apologize.” Nick looks up. “I let my anger and grief get the best of me last night and I took it out on everyone. No one deserved that, especially last night. I know I don’t have a monopoly on grief, but I acted like I did. I’m not the only one affected by this. I really am sorry.”

“I know,” Rosalee says, leaning against the threshold between the halves of the shop.

“And I’m sorry, Rosalee, for snapping at you like I did. I think I just wanted someone else to blame. You tried your hardest; you held onto hope the longest. I feel like such an asshole.”

“You should,” Rosalee says rather matter-of-factly. “But I get it. Anger and grief can make even the nicest person act like a lunatic.” She sighs. “I’m still upset, but not at you.” She walks over to Nick and wraps her arms around him. “We can either let this tear us all apart or bring us together. I know that sounds disgustingly cliché.”

“You’re right, though,” Nick says as his arms come up around Rosalee, holding her close. “And I don’t want this to destroy all the other good relationships I have, especially when I’m the one who dragged everyone into my life.”

“Oh, shut up, Nick,” Monroe says. “You didn’t drag us anywhere; we all went along very willingly.” He walks over and pulls both his wife and best friend into a hug.

“Well, this is getting weird,” Nick starts. “Monroe, I don’t think we’ve ever hugged.”

“Yeah, this is kinda weird,” Monroe says, pulling away. “So, can I address the elephant in the room.”

“Not yet,” Nick says. “I came to you guys first. Well, actually Wu was first, but he came to me.”

“What?” Rosalee asks.

“He came over this morning to help clean up. Then he told me I should go see you guys and that he would take care of the rest.”

“He’s a good guy; I like him.” Monroe says.

“Yeah, he is.”

“So, what are you gonna say to her?”

Nick sighs. “I have no idea.”

Nick uses the drive to Hank’s house to try to figure out what he’s going to say to Trubel, but when he pulls up, he’s still at a loss. When he knocks, Hank answers the door and lets him in.

“She’s up in the shower; I’m sure she’ll be down soon.”

Nick nods. “I’m sorry about last night, Hank.”

“I know.” It’s quiet for a moment before he adds, “You talk to anyone else yet?”

“Yeah, uh, Wu came over to help me clean up, and then I went over to the shop to see Monroe and Rosalee.”

“How’s she holding up?”

“Better, I think.”

“Hey,” a voice says from the bottom of the steps.

Nick turns, and it’s Trubel. “Hey,” he says quietly.

“I’ll leave you guys to it,” Hank says, walking out of the room.

Trubel walks over and stands a few feet from Nick -- a safe distance.

“I just came over to apologize for last night.”

“Okay,” Trubel says, crossing her arms over her chest, waiting.

“I overreacted. I lashed out. I blamed everyone but myself.”

“Yeah, you did.” Trubel does her best to stay strong, straight-faced.

Nick knows this is going to be far harder than with Monroe and Rosalee. He knows he can either spill his heart out, get down on his knees, and beg for forgiveness or he can just apologize and wait.

“I’m sorry, Trubel. You didn’t deserve any of this; you shouldn’t have been dragged into it.” He looks down at his feet briefly. “I’ll just go.” Turning, Nick walks out the door.

“That was kind of cold,” Hank says, walking back into the room.

Trubel shrugs. “So was what happened last night.” Her arms fall to her sides as she turns to look at Hank. “I’ve gotta get back to Josh. Thanks for letting me crash here.”

“That’s it? You’re just gonna leave?”

“Everything here is wrapped up. I’ll let Renard know I’m leaving just in case there’s an issue.” She grabs her coat and pulls on her boots. “Josh needs me and he’s a hell of a lot more appreciative.”

Without giving Hank the chance to say anything, Trubel walks over to the door, peeks out the window to make sure Nick’s gone, and then walks out. When she’s about two blocks away, she pulls out her cell phone and calls a cab.

The driver drops her off a few blocks from where she parked the truck. She stops in a convenience store and grabs a few sodas and snacks, and then she heads to the truck, climbing in and, once again, pulling out her phone. She taps in Josh’s number and waits.

“Trubel? Are you okay?”

“I’m fine, Josh. I’m on my way back.”

“You gonna tell me what happened?”

“Not now. I just wanna get back.”

“Okay,” Josh says. “How long?”

“Couple hours -- I might hit lunchtime traffic.”

They exchange goodbyes and Trubel steers towards the highway.

By the time Trubel is turning down the street, all but one soda and a bag of chips are crumpled up in the passenger seat. When she pulls up, she finds a trash can and shoves all the trash from the truck inside of it. Grabbing her things, along with the last of the snacks, she walks in and finds Josh napping on the motel room bed.

She shakes his shoulder and says, “Wake up, Sleeping Beauty.”

Josh jumps up, quickly looking around. When his eyes fall on Trubel, he calms down. “Jesus, Theresa.”

“Chill, man. Here.” She hands him the soda and chips. “I brought your favorites.”

He rolls his eyes but says, “Thank you. So, what happened?”

With a sigh, Trubel recounts the events of the last twenty-four hours. When she’s done, Josh is staring at her, wide-eyed, mouth agape.

“Don’t look at me like that. I’m fine.”

“I know you are, it’s just…” Josh sighs. “How? How are you fine?”

Trubel looks away, giving herself a moment to convince herself she’s not going to cry. “I just keep reminding myself that it wasn’t really her.” She looks back at Josh. “Fuck, man. I saw her, what she could do… She was a hexenbiest -- a really powerful one. She used her powers to throw Nick across the room without even touching him.”

“What a mess.” Josh shakes his head.

“I know. Monroe told me they tried to help her but she just wasn’t having it.”

“Then you did what you had to.” Josh reaches out and pulls Trubel into a hug. “Have I ever told you that you’re the bravest girl I know?”

She chuckles and hugs him back. “Yeah, once or twice.”

“So,” he says, letting go, “When are we hitting the road again? I was thinking we can go back to driving the coast and hit Redwood National Park.”

“You wanna go see big-ass trees?”

“Yes, very much.”

Trubel shakes her head but smiles, looking up at him. “We can leave tomorrow morning as long as you wanna drive first.”

“You’re gonna let me drive the truck?”

“After driving to Portland and back in the same day? Yeah, I’ll let you drive... but only to the border.”

“Not to change the subject or anything, but what are gonna do if he calls?”

“Nick?” She shrugs. “I don’t know.”

 


End file.
